Thursday, December 22, 2011


the sleeper wakes
into a dream
and from there wakes
into a series of dreams
where waking is but a vision of light

morning is broken
the shards of the day fall back
into the theatre of night
where plays are endlessly enacted
and the stage is but a stage
for future performances

stop counting time
play the music to its own beat
you will yet be able to take your exit
when the early dawn
wraps itself around your feet

Friday, November 18, 2011

Puzzling the will

The will to live. It's a good thing, so we think. In fact, isn't there a judgment about people who do not have much of a will to live? I'm not just talking about people who are driven to suicide, but those who live carelessly and let themselves lapse into ill health, or who simply underutilize their resources and live less fully than perhaps they ought? It speaks to our own will to live, somehow offending the norm of the entire human community in which we find ourselves. We are all here equally under the circumscription of the body and the senses, and "the heart-ache and the thousand shocks that flesh is heir to." And we all have to daily exercise that will muscle in order to have the determination to stick with it. You can't get out of it that easily, we say to our less willful brethren. Suck it up already!

But the question I would pose is: whose will is it really? Who wants us to live? Is it even ourselves? How do we know some alien race has not bred us to inhabit this planet, and somehow needs our life force to exercise itself for a certain number of years in order to benefit them energetically somehow. Some variation of The Matrix, in other words. How do we know our will is our own? How do we know we are not simply being manipulated by some bioenergetic device to maintain our existence here, unthinking, unquestioning?

Of course, it could be God's will. In which case it would be all right to obey it. You don't want to piss off God, after all.

It could also be some evil force. That is what the gnostics believed, and they were pretty much synonymous with the early Christians. Not that they thought we should all go "off" ourselves in protest, but they definitely saw us benighted humans as living in prison. The Black Iron Prison, modern day gnostic Philip K. Dick calls it in Valis.

So whether it be God's will that we feel impelled to continue inhabiting this mortal frame, or that of some less benevolent force, we must acknowledge the possibility that this "free" will of ours is an illusion, even in the intimate matter of survival. We have been heavily conditioned, to be sure, to think that we have free will, because it is very useful for "Them" to have us think that way. What a con! We think that our will is our own, so of course we will follow it unquestioningly.

When Hamlet was ruminating about "to be or not to be," he might have been grappling with this very issue:

But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn
No Traveller returns, Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all...

It is generally agreed by Shakespeare experts that the "conscience" Hamlet refers to here is not our modern meaning of conscience, i.e. "doing what's right," but something more akin to consciousness. Specifically, consciousness of our unconsciousness, which we are afraid of. In the case of what is on "the other side," it could be worse than what we've got here. (Although that seems hard to believe, if you've listened to any of the Republican debates.)

They want us to think we have power and that the highest expression of it is our own "free" will to live. Never mind that we have no idea how we got here and generally have no concept of having consented to it. Did they drug us, cajole us with promises of lots of sex and sensual pleasures, or simply tell us everything and anything that we wanted to hear to get us to take out an 80-year mortgage on this big-ass piece of fleshly real estate?

Don't fear the unconscious. Fear what you know. Doubt how you know it. Question everything. If there's any reason we're here, it's to find the truth. Don't blow it.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

This is not a blog

Well, this is a blog actually but this is not a post on a blog. This message refuses to be posted, thereby to become a component of this blog, accepting its terms and conditions. This message is Occupying Blogspot. That's right: you are visiting in occupied territory. Occupied by the people. Which people? The people who are the people. Obviously the people who are not the people are not us. Therefore we are the people. And we're occupying this blog until the blog de-hierarchicalizes itself. Hmm, that's not a very attractive word. Nevertheless, as I say, we will occupy this space until our non-agenda is accepted by the non-people and our rights to do whatever shall not be abridged in any way. We do not submit to the powers that be, whoever they are, or are not, and we hereby proclaim our personhood as collective individuals. Thank you for your time. Send $10. That is all.

Saturday, October 01, 2011

Maybe baby

If we look at the ingestion of time in human physiology as emulating a quantum information processing model, we could refer to absolute pure consciousness as the principle of Yes; the relativistic dialectical mental consciousness aspect as the principle of No; and the quantum consciousness "wildcard" randomizing principle as the great Maybe that makes us divinely human. When the time component in the spacetime matrix is encountered by the fully potentiated mind, there is a hypercharged negentropic counterpoise to the Time Arrow as it curves downward in the universal general relativity geodesic. Thus we have the capacity not to choose as well as to choose. We become like cosmic Hamlets, trying to decide whether or not to act and ending up instead in a state of suspension, of divine discontent. Like an electron in a state of quantum superposition, we do not incline to locate ourselves absolutely in time and space, but let ourselves roam the universe like a giant bird looking for a place to perch. The uncertainty principle reigns supreme. Probablistically, we strut and fret in the range of a set of solutions to the Schrodinger equation. In the words of Buddy Holly, "Maybe, baby, I'll have you for me." The transposition of the ultimate object (You) for the ultimate subject (Me) is the "solution" to the circular question raised by the ultimate Maybe. This is a consummation devoutly to be wished.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Block time

You need to set your clock to quantum time. What does that mean? It means like when you look at a Seurat, a pointillist painting close up, you see the real texture of the painting. It's not continuous areas of color. It's broken up into tiny bits that the eye processes as an overall color, when actually it's quite the opposite. The very tiniest bits of matter are hypothesized to be Planck length. That's a number with 35 zeros in the denominator. That's small. And Planck time is theorized to have a number with 42 zeros in the denominator. That's quantum time. It's so fragmented and flashing. One moment it's on, the next it's off, the next it's on and off simultaneously. Quantum time doesn't know about Einstein's clocks or Newton's eternity. It's on its own. It doesn't know from linear, okay? Time is like a block. It's not a river like you think. Is it real? Hell yes, it's real. It's not moving, your mind is moving, that's what's moving. But time is real. You, you're not real.

Thursday, September 08, 2011

Improbable universe

What happened to you today that was improbable? Think about it. Our lives are so delineated, organized, and made predictable not only by outside forces but by ourselves, because we like things that way. But the clue to the truth of life is in those events that clue us in that there are vast regions of unmapped territory out there. The entire universe is, as a matter of scientific fact, a thoroughly improbable beast.

A recent article in Scientific American called "The Inflation Debate" (April 2011) points out that for a universe to expand rapidly and continuously, in the period of what is known as "inflation" just subsequent to the original Big Bang, is a highly improbable event to begin with. But for a universe to emerge through the inflation as flat as a pancake, as ours is, relatively speaking--well, the chances of this happening are roughly equivalent to your being able to walk onto a vast beach, plunge your hand somewhere into the sand, and pull out a tiny diamond that I have hidden there. If we didn't know better, we would have to conclude that our present existence is so improbable as to be for all intents and purposes the pipe dream of a jokester deity.

So note and be aware of the little things that happen each day that lie outside the normal range. Because they represent the actual nature of this reality which is, as I have shown, of the most unusual character. One might think that God, or the pantheon of godlike forces, whoever is responsible for creating this unlikely universe, must actually be continuously reverse engineering this place. Not limited by our ideas of linear causality or constrained by the pedestrian organizational principles we humans espouse, the godforce is busy bringing new ideas out of the future to improve the present, while massaging the stomach of the past to better digest this expanding meal of change. This is the only way to explain how the specificity of what has happened could emerge from random conditions. Does God cheat at his own game of cosmic poker? Who's keeping track?

Then too, it may merely be a case that if there is a 1% chance of rain today in Iowa, but I happen to be standing under the only rain cloud in the state, there is a 100% chance of my getting wet. So despite the improbablity of the universe having turned out as it did, creating a conundrum for cosmologists, and despite the improbability of our being here at all in this flabbergastingly strange world (let's face it), we are getting pretty inundated with whatever it is. Call it reality, I don't know. It's a pancake that's getting infinitely rolled up and stuffed like a blintz. And we're supposed to eat this thing?

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Spiritual fetishism

There are two primary pitfalls with being involved with anything spiritual. One is spiritual reductionism, which I will discuss at another time. The other is what I call spiritual fetishism. This is where we objectify something whose spiritual essence far exceeds the physical. For example, a guru can become a substitute for the realization of higher consciousness within oneself. He may have started out as a doorway, but he becomes a roadbock.

Another thing that can become a fetish is the container of consciousness itself. A state of consciousness is the result of a delicate balance between pure consciousness, ego, intellect, feelings, senses, and the objects of perception that make up one's world. The resulting personal reality needs to have a certain inner and outer coherence, and a systemic structure and dynamic, in order to have enough stability to serve for any length of time as a platform of awareness. Naturally we get very attached to that stable "personality," but as spiritual evolutionaries we are simultaneously advocates of change and growth. That means the "state of consciousness" we are in, which is a median integral quotient of the strength and amplitude of our consciousness field, is a fetish container for its own metadescription.

Any state of consciousness can become a fetish. If we are in football consciousness, we have made the football a fetish. If we are in cosmic consciousness, we have made a fetish of the state of pure awareness as an ever-present reality along with relative awareness. If we are in unity consciousness, we have made a fetish of the merger of subject and object of perception. Let's face it: as long as we keep evolving to higher states, we are always going to find it irresistible to objectify our own subjectivity.

There is an alternative, though. Maybe we'll pop out of our consciousness fetish one of these days, like a Jack-in-the-box. We'll crack the cosmic egg of our own enlightenment. And when we do, it'll probably scare the hell out of God.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Sun stand thou not still

As we know, the sun revolves around the earth. Or at least we would know that, because of the obvious perception of the sun rising and setting, unless someone had told us otherwise and we believed them. Which of course they did. This is one of the triumphs of education: to prove to us that because we don't understand the simplest facts, we need them to tell us how all things really are.

Maybe we don't deep down believe them though. Why else do we still say "sunrise" and "sunset"? Clearly those words refer to a perception, not a reality. A perception is, however, a kind of reality. In this case it reflects a desire to revert to our original sense of reality about how the universe works. It revolves around us, that's what we want to believe. And maybe we were right to begin with about that, before they started brainwashing us to the contrary. My question is, what have we lost by abandoning the "lower" truth for the "higher" one? What truth does the new paradigm shut out? Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that we used to know we had a place in the universe because of our centrality. From the seventeenth century on, we've lost that sense of center and thus are bereft of a confident reference point from which to evaluate our true place in the cosmos.

That true place is not one of a miniscule speck. Yes, we feel small looking at the transcendent heavens, the painterly whorls and explosions of stars and galaxies in the night sky. But we also feel expanded, as if our selves had ascended and become absorbed into the cosmic level of being. That is the truth that archaic peoples knew. And if they happened to think that they were the center of the universe, who are we tiny-brained moderns to gainsay them?

Sunday, June 05, 2011

The bearable heaviness of light

They call them "light" for a reason. They don't weigh anything. They're massless. I'm referring to photons, or particles of light. These light particles are called bosonic, unlike like the little quark particles of matter, which are referred to as fermionic. Bosons can occupy the same quantum state; fermions cannot. In other words, two or more photons can be at precisely the same place at the same time, because they are bosonic, whereas for anything material or fermionic, this is impossible.

Or is it? What if I could turn my material body into bosons? (Dark matter, incidently, may be bosonic, if the fabled Higgs particle is finally discovered in the bowels of the Large Hadron Collider.) --Thus, creating a dark matter copy of myself may allow me to enter another dimension, one that is interpenetrating the four-dimensional spacetime universe that we perceive with our five senses. (The sixth sense obviously doesn't seem to respect this dimensional limitation very well!) The inert dark matter bosons are heavy. Unlike light bosons. And they are dark. Also. But who knows what my dark body would look like and weigh like from the vantage point of the dark side? Like deep sea fishes, I may not be entirely bereft of illumination.

For the past several years I have been using scalar wave technology to restore and strengthen my subtle (or light) body. The process involves removing anomalies in the underlying structure and optimizing its reflective and transmissive potentialities. Perhaps I can scalarize myself enough to make unnecessary that trip to the dark side. As William Blake said (and Jim Morrison later quoted), "Some are born to realms of light / Some are born to endless night."

The masslessness of light may need to be reevaluated in view of Janet Sussman's theories, as explained in this six-part series in her blog The Lion's Maw. Here we encounter the idea of light as perhaps the fundamental constituent of matter as a result of the action of consciousness upon pure, uncreated light. Consciousness consumes and processes pure light and the metabolic result is our bodies. And stars and trees and everything else.

Being is light, literally. Even when it gets a little heavy. That somehow makes it more bearable, doesn't it? "Some are born to sweet delight." Sing it, Jimbo.

Friday, March 18, 2011


the curve of the full heart's chamber
the bent back turn of the other side
both drawn out of themselves
point down goddess direction
to the chocolate earth

pouring into the secret caves
where capillaries catch
gleaming nectrous juices
like deep discovered drops
on the tongues of Egyptian cats

ventricles of unknowing
sense without eyes
feeling only waves
the point is planted in the firm soil
inciting remembered rites

light dances behind silence
brooking no dispassion
a moon sets behind
the belly of the lake
pressing its fire into the furnace

now pink light curls
through the aurora shell
bells betoken breath rising
in an exhalation of larks
then the quickening